


Hold On With Shaking Hands

by spooklock



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is confident, Crowley is nervous, Dirty Talk, Experimentation, First Time, Fluffy Smut, Hand Job, M/M, Masturbation, Nervous, Romance, Sweet Sex, Verse Aziraphale, Verse Crowley, switch aziraphale, switch crowley, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:40:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22154923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spooklock/pseuds/spooklock
Summary: This was originally going to be a short response to an ask on tumblr, but I got about four sentences in and realized it was going to far surpass what would be an appropriate length *clears throat* for such a medium."Love it if you could write a fluffy/smutty piece about Aziraphale helping Crowley through his first time getting off. Absolutely love your writing <3"
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 185





	Hold On With Shaking Hands

Back, all the way back, in the Garden; Crowley took one look at Aziraphale and knew. He knew no one else would ever make him feel that way. He knew he would love Aziraphale for the rest of Time. And he knew if he ever did choose to make the effort, it would be Aziraphale, or it would be no one.

And any time he ever thought about Aziraphale in that way, it always ended quickly, in anger or fear or a week spent in bed, crying (and not admitting to himself that he was crying).

So for all of Time, he didn’t make the effort.

Aziraphale, however, found himself in a much different way; coping with the absence of his beloved with plenty of nights spent thinking of Crowley, a hand between his thighs or a toy between his cheeks, desperately trying to simulate an experience with someone whom he had never known in that way. Sometimes it was enough- for a while. But often it ended in more longing than he had started with; his arms, his heart, his body and his bed all felt somehow more empty. but he tried, hopeful that one day it would be enough.

It never was.

**********  
Post- a-not-calypse, and finally, finally they find themselves in one another's arms. Things have been wonderfully sweet, and incredibly romantic. Soft kisses, hands clasped at any moment they can be. Picnics, long drives in the country. Romantic dinners under candle light, and lovely, slow mornings waking up in one another's arms. While neither of them feels it's missing, the questions has very clearly been lingering there under hesitant lips; should we?

Crowley wanders his flat, absently cleaning things that don't need cleaning. He feels he's making Aziraphale wait far longer than is typically expected. Worries he'll lose him if he waits much longer. Alright, he thinks, I just need to do it. He tries to research- watches plenty of porn, even reads some of it, figuring he may find some understanding of what Aziraphale might want if he gets some insights from things he's seen on his angel's shelves. But at the end of the day, he still isn't sure what exactly to do, what to expect. He assumes Aziraphale has had experiences; knows what he's doing, what he wants. What he expects Crowley to do, and how well he expects him to do it...He sighs. He knows aziraphale too well to really believe these things. He just can't help worrying he'll disappoint in, somehow.

His nerves have him holding his phone with clammy hands, shaking as he invites Aziraphale over for a romantic dinner the next day. He cleans his place top to bottom, rearranges his furniture, cooks three different dinners, and buys two new outfits. He knocks over a candle as he's going about trying to set a mood, burns the chicken, and spills the wine on himself. His hands shake as he answers the door. He stutters, and flits about nervously. He barely speaks. And he downs a glass of wine in one gulp, just trying to fill the silence with some kind of excuse for not talking.

Aziraphale has about had it with trying to play along. Something is upsetting Crowley, and it's not resolving itself. He refuses to allow it to continue to ruin Crowley's evening. They've waited too long to have to do the nervous, awkward new couple thing.

"What's wrong, my love? Come here, sit with me. And don't lie to me, I see it all over your face."

Crowley sits. And he stares at his shoes- how would he possibly bring such a thing up? Aziraphale kisses his cheek, turning his face to press soft, questioning kisses to his mouth. He pulls away, whispering against his lips.

"What is it, sweetheart? Please, tell me. You can tell me anything. Don't be so alone, not when I could be there with you."

Crowley gulps.

"I...umm...I'm nervous. angel. I'm so...I've never...always just wanted you, and that's all...so I've never...been. With anyone. And I...I know you want to. And I do too. But I- fuck. I have no idea what I'm doing. And I worry that I may disappoint you."

Crowley looks up, biting his tongue to keep from crying. Aziraphale meets his eyes, blue and bright and clear. His face falls, pained by the idea that Crowley has been carrying such a burden, and for how long?

"Oh, oh my dear. No, sweetheart, come here. That's okay." Aziraphale pulls his face into his shoulder, rubbing soothing circles into his back as his shoulders droop in relief.

"I've not been with anyone either, Crowley. My love, we've nothing to worry about. There's nothing about you that I will discover that could make me want to leave. I've no expectations, except that we should do what we can to be good to one another. You just have to tell me what you want, and I'll make it happen for you. And I'll tell you what I want, and that's all we need to know. Just be open with me, as much as you can. it takes time, but I love you. We'll be alright."

"Well, in the interest of...being 'open'?"

"Yes, my dear? Anything..."

" I- I don't know what I want. I mean...I wouldn't know."

"that's alright, Crowley. Just tell me what feels good. show me what you usually do."

"that's just it, angel...There is no 'usual'."

"You mean to say, that you've never touched yourself?"

Crowley hides his face in his hands, sighing in frustration. He's relieved to have these things off of his chest; but revealing them is exhausting.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I really am trying to help. I don't want to push you into discomfort, we don't have to talk about this now. "

"No, no you are! I know, and you are....you are helping, angel. It's just...difficult. Saying these things is...I'm not used to it."

"Crowley...you don't have to answer this next question. I only ask it in the interest of further understanding, so that I can possibly make you more comfortable. But...why?"

Crowley sighs, brushing his hair back from his face. He sits, wringing his hands and considering his answer. He leans against Aziraphale, both of them sinking back into the couch and getting comfortable together. 

"It started...as simply being only interested in being with you. I never felt any...pull to be with anyone else. It was you or no one. I'm not interested in sex as a hobby; I never considered it. Until you came along. But then it became...it became being unable to bear the thought of doing anything that might...might make me miss you more. You weren't there, and you wouldn't be when it was over. I just couldn't...seemed pointless."

"I tried it. I tried plenty of times. And that was exactly the problem...you weren't there after. It became this circle of trying to satisfy a craving with thoughts of you, and then ending up wanting you more."

"Maybe...both of our problems are solved now. I'm just...I truly...don't know where to begin. I tried...watching, and reading stuff. Stuff I thought you might like. But none of it seemed like you."

"Oh, Crowley. That's so thoughtful. Thank you- but I think you'll find that it is quite different in real life. Oh, my dear- would you let me be there for you? Guide you?"

Crowley has a hard time with agreeing to be led. He wants to be the one to hold Aziraphale, to touch him and please him.

"I always pictured myself as this...confident, capable..."

"Lover?"

"Yeah...that."

"You can be. but it's alright to need some support. Especially at first. We can be there for one another, you know. One person does not have to do everything every time. But it's alright to need that sometimes. Crowley, I want to make you feel good too. I want to be held and touched, yes, but ai want to hold and touch, too. In my own ways. I want to show you how I feel. I love you."

"You're right. I know. thanks, angel. And I love ou too. I...I put a lot of pressure on myself. I guess I was the one that expected certain things from myself."

"Release them, darling. Please- for both of our sakes. Free yourself when you're with me- I swear, you're safe."

Aziraphale lifts his hand, noting that it is now entirely steady in his own. He kisses Crowley's fingertips slowly, watching his eyes soften. Dinner is forgotten on the table, the wine is left out, and the fears are left behind on the couch when Aziraphale takes his hands gently, leading him to the bedroom after asking if he's sure he wants to do this tonight.

Aziraphale is delighted to find that the romantic lighting has been continued into the bedroom. He shuts the door, and sits on the bed with Crowley. Aziraphale takes his face gently in hand. He leans in, kissing Crowley so gently, and it feels like a first of some kind. They've shared all kinds of kisses, but something about this feels different. As though some fog has been lifted, and now there is a new closeness they weren't aware was missing. Aziraphale takes him gently down to lie on the duvet, as Crowley pulls him close and deepens the kiss. He traces a slow hand from Aziraphale's cheek, ghosting over his neck and feeling the hitch in his breath. Down, over his shoulder, across his arm, and onto his side. Crowley touches over his soft tummy, his chest, and back again to stop and squeeze at his hip. He moves to explore the angel's back, pulling him impossibly closer by the small of his waist and guiding one leg to hitch over his own hip. Crowley grasps at his thigh and bum, feeling a bit more bold, a bit more confident now.

"Mmm, feels good. I like your hands on me."

Crowley slips his tongue into Aziraphale's mouth, but freezes, not sure what to do with it now. Aziraphale doesn't seem sure either, but he returns the gesture, licking softly over Crowley's tongue and top lip, slotting their mouths deeper together and humming when it feels right. Crowley tries it now, licking into his mouth and along the inside of his bottom lip, sweeping broadly with unger. Aziraphale whines, grabbing Crowley's hair and clamping his thigh down harder. Crowley groans in response, rolling instinctively on top of Aziraphale and grasping at his thigh, making sure it stays where it belongs.

"Wanna to be naked with you."

"Please, yes."

Crowley slips Aziraphale's jacket off, tossing it to the floor. Aziraphale gasps, scandalized.

"Oh, you're going to need to loosen up a lot if you're going to be going to bed with me, angel." He teases, biting his neck playfully. Aziraphale's response is serious though- moaning in delight and rolling his hips; it was the words coming from Crowley's mouth ("Going to bed with me, angel...") and the implication that there was plenty of debauchery and scandal to come. It was the feeling of Crowley taking his clothes off, and biting into his neck. It was Crowley's hand on his thigh that seemed to want to be fused there. It was so, so much...

Crowley undoes the buttons of his vest and shirt, unraveling his bow tie with ease, tossing it all away in a big ball onto the floor. He kisses down Aziraphale's neck and chest slowly, tearing away at his own jacket and shirt.

"I'm- I'm so glad to see you feeling more comfortable, darling."

Crowley's hands are on his own flies, ready to abandon his pants in the heap of clothes lost to the floor. But Aziraphale stops him.

"Something wrong, angel?"

"Yes, very. I've always dreamed of removing your trousers, and you were about to deny me that privilege."

"Oh, well then-" Crowley inches up the bed, straddling Aziraphale's chest with patient hands behind his back as he pushes his hips forward into Aziraphale's eager hands, breath catching at the feeling of his hands on the front of his trousers. Aziraphale unhooks his belt, letting it hang heavily at his hips. He pops the button, watching Crowley's face as he eases the zipper down slowly. Slipping a warm hand inside, he touches across Crowley's hardening cock, Crowley sighs, shoulders and torso sinking just a bit as he melts under the first feelings of arousal he knew he wouldn't have to chase away with heartache and booze. Aziraphale takes a gentle squeeze at the bulge, and he reacts far more than he intends to.

It just feels incredible; the first hands on him ever are Aziraphale's, and he can't help but flash forward to bare skin, wanting bodies, aching and satisfying...His mouth falls open, head rolling back and eyes sliding shut as he falls forward onto his hands, thrusting into the perfect, firm and hot hands on his body.

"Aziraphale!" He begs, panting.

Aziraphale releases him, leaning up to kiss sweetly at his black cotton covered, now fully hard cock. Crowley breathes deeply, flushed high over his cheeks and down his neck. Aziraphale slips his trousers down, helping him remove them from his legs. Crowley returns the gesture, unhooking his belt and sliding his trousers down, exposing his thighs and a pair of tartan boxers. He laughs before thinking about it.

"What? Tartan is sexy."

"You know what, angel? It really is. But only because it's you. You make it sexy."

Crowley leans down, kissing his mouth deeply. Aziraphale circles his arms around Crowley's shoulders, tangling his hands into his hair and pulling him down to lie on top of him. Crowley ruts forward, rubbing their cocks together and creating delicious friction. They both gasp, shivering and clutching tighter. Aziraphale flips them over, sitting astride Crowley's thighs and running hungry hands down his torso as Crowley arches into Aziraphale's restless hips. He lingers at his Crowley's hips, taking one finger down each side and tracing excruciatingly over the "V" of Crowley's hips. Crowley sucks a harsh breath through his teeth, rocking his hips up to ask for more. Aziraphale leans forward, laying soft kisses to his tummy, thighs and the front of his briefs. Crowley groans impatiently as the spot on his hip grows with wetness, begging for touch and relief.

"I'd like to pay attention to you first, before we make it about me or even the both of us. Would you sit up? I'd like to be in your lap. Against the pillows, perhaps?"

They rearrange, with Crowley upright and leaning against the soft wall of pillows against the headboard. He bends his legs at the knees, sitting cross legged with Aziraphale in his lap. They remove their underwear, feeling the exhilaration of finally being so exposed to one another. It's new and strange, but lovely.

Aziraphale miracles a tube of lubricant, taking Crowley's hand gently. He turns it over in his own, holding it softly as he pours a dollap into Crowley's palm.

"Now, slick yourself with that all over."

Crowley blushes a bit, laughing lightly. 

"Are you going to teach me to wank, angel?"

"Yes, I very well am. If that's alright, of course."

"Yeah, just...a bit embarrassing. But maybe it's a bit hot, too...maybe it's more hot than anything, now that I- ohhh, shit-"

Crowley slicks himself with the lubricant, caught off guard at how good something so profunctery could feel. Aziraphale puts his hands back in Crowley's hair, looping around his neck softly and resting on his shoulders as he plays with the ends. He kisses him deliciously, humming into his mouth. He swears he can taste the satisfaction on Crowley's tongue.

"Now," he says against his lips, "Stroke up, slow at first."

Crowley takes himself in a firm grip, stroking slowly from the base to the head.

"Nnggg...fuh-"  
  
"Yeah?"

"Mmmmm..."

"Do that. Try different speeds, just do what feels good my love."

Crowley takes a few strokes at the slow pace; they make his head fall back, stomach muscles clenching in pleasure as he arches into his hand. Aziraphale cradles his head, kissing his exposed neck and wiggling in his lap. He catches his breath, resuming his gazing into Aziraphale's loving expression. Crowley tries a quicker stroke, breathing shallowly and shutting his eyes as his body struggles to keep up with processing the feelings his hand creates. Satisfying tingles spark in his body; he didn't expect to feel good all over. He tries for an even quicker pace, but he can tell right away what he wants right now is to explore.

"You certainly seemed to like it a bit slower, my love. Why don't you try that again?"

Crowley nods, slowing again and feeling a spike in pleasure as he takes up the original pace. He exhales noticabley, sigh fading into a satisfied hum. 

"''S really good, angel...like this. But I want something...just something more."

"Why don't you try twisting at the head? Or rolling over it with your palm?"

Crowley twists on his next upstroke, humming in appreciation. He repeats the motion a few times before trying the other suggestion, stroking up and over his head, dragging an open palm over the top before taking his hand back down. This seems to do it for him; he screws his eyes shut and tries to inhale, gasping.

"Wonderful. How does this feel?"

"Mmmm....ugh, angel..."

Aziraphale kisses his mouth sensually. "Keep going, my love. You're so beautiful. I want you to know how to do this- it truly is a wonderful to do for oneself."

"You wouldn't-ahh- wouldn't be upset if I did this...mmm, without you?"

"Oh, on the contrary, darling; I'll be thinking about it when I'm alone. You, pleasuring yourself, making yourself feel good. And to the thought of me? I could think about it for days, Crowley."

"Ahhh! Oh, fuck, angel...I need...want to..."

"Feel like you may come, sweetheart?"

Crowley grits his teeth, not entirely sure, but feeling fairly certain. "Mmm...feels like I'm dying, angel."

"Yes, that sounds about right. Here, let me shows you something..."

Aziraphale takes the hand Crowley has attached to his hip, guiding it down between his own legs, past his cock, past his balls. He lays Crowley's hand on his body, taking two of his fingers and rubbing softly at the patch of skin above the entrance to his ass.

"Rub up, pushing in just a little."

Crowley strokes up, rubbing as suggested at the same time. He pauses, frozen.

"Angel..."

"Keep going, if it feels good."

"i'm...gonna come, I'm..."

"Keep going sweetheart. You've got it, you're right there."

Crowley strokes again, dragging slower than he's ever gone. He circles the patch of skin with a firm knuckle as he drags over his head, and oh, this must be what all the fuss was about.

Crowley's body fills entirely with heat and tension; he feels as though something inside him is far, far too much for his corporation to handle. Something has to give- he thrusts harshly into his fist, over and over. Mouth open, head thrown against the pillows as he bows off the bed. It's beyond what he could have ever imagined- his veins fill with white hot electricity as he moves completely out of his own control.

At last, the tension breaks. He moans, finally able to make a sound he couldn't find before. it happens again, over and over...

"Oh, sweetheart, here..."

Aziraphale notices his hand has stopped moving. "Let me help," he strokes Crowley at the same pace, gently moving his hands aside as he helps him continue to pleasure himself through his release. "Feels much better if you keep going."

Crowley moans desperately as the waves of heat crash over him again and again. He thought one was absolutely everything. But Aziraphale shows him a continuous stream of ecstasy, stroking him relentlessly. Thick ropes of hot release splatter over both of their hands, and to Crowley, it seems to last hours. It never seemed to last so long in those videos. But then, he thought, those people likely weren't in love.

Finally, he gets his breath back. His body relaxes, and his cock begins to soften in Aziraphale's hand, still on him, unwilling to leave him alone until it's time. He feels the sudden need to kiss him, hold him. To be held. Crowley looks into his eyes, usure what to ask for.

"Don't worry, my love. I'm not going anywhere. I think I know what you may need."

Aziraphale snaps, miracling away the mess. He leans into Crowley, who straightens his legs and wraps Aziraphale in his arms as the angel drapes himself across his body. Crowley lenas an exhausted head against him, sighing in relief.

"thank you, angel. I love you."

"I love you too, darling. There's nothing to thank me for, though. Rest now."

"What about you?"

"Later. We have all the time we want. We should take it."


End file.
